I think about the mornings it saved me: a purple dinosaur in the morning. a big, yellow bird in the afternoon. old plastic bowls full of warm milk and colorful cereal residue. loud weekend living rooms. cooking pies with cold dirt and pebbles in the white, hard plastic house with pink shutters in… Continue reading Alta Vista
On my way home from the anti-trump protest on Market Street in San Francisco last night, I saw this little girl on the bus. She was at the protest with her amazing sign. Instead of words and painting my opinion for this post, I'm just posting the picture I snapped of her. Pictures say a… Continue reading Children are Aware and Weary.
I crawl out of my cocoon, slamming the door behind me, promising to never return. I return sometimes. But now, never. The cocoon stands still, like it's frozen in time. Not moving forward or backward, but stuck where I left it. It is alone, abandoned, and screaming in agonizing pain. The four purple walls are… Continue reading Death of a Caterpillar
From teeny bop posters to pictures in frames. The thing bout growing up is that nothing remains the same.
My first house was a yellow brick house with blue window shutters, a pink door, and a green roof. The rent was great because it was free, meals were included, and it was right in the backyard of my family's house. I used to host parties in it when my cousins came over, I used… Continue reading Dollhouse Days